There’s power in solitude.
I spent my birthday last week sitting by a river, deep in the woods, alone.
No distractions. No noise. Just me. Alone with my thoughts.
And in those quiet conversations with myself, I answered questions I’d been outsourcing to the world.
I stopped looking outward. I turned inward. And I listened.
That’s when I heard it loud clearly…
My Voice.
Not the one shaped by approval, but the one carved by stillness.
See, there’s a reason most people never develop a distinctive Voice.
They’re always in rooms too loud to hear it.
But when you’re alone…truly alone…something strange happens.
The world’s opinions grow quiet. And your own start to emerge from the darkness.
Not all at once.
And not always kindly.
But clearly.
Everything starts to rise to the surface.
Your taste. Your biases. Your obsessions. Your weirdness.
When I think of a creator who embraced that weirdness…who lived it…I think of Prince.
Prince was the embodiment of artistic solitude.
He’d lock himself away in Paisley Park, writing, producing, and playing every instrument on his albums. Alone. Obsessed. Unfiltered.
“Paisley Park is the place one should find in oneself, where one can go when one is alone,” Prince told Rolling Stone.
“I think when one discovers himself, he discovers God. Or maybe it's the other way around…It's hard to put into words. It's a feeling someone knows when they get it.”
That’s what solitude gives you.
That’s how Voice is born.
Not by adding more.
But by subtracting noise until only you remain.
That’s when you know it’s real.
So try it. Carve out one hour this week to be completely alone (no phone, no distractions).
Take a notebook. Sit in silence.
Ask yourself a question you've been turning to others for.
Then listen.
You might be surprised by what you hear.
Stay creative,
